Beckett's Hell
by XantheXV
Summary: What happens when writer's block mixes with a pure hatred towards Cutler Beckett? This story, of course. This is just a story written for fun to cure writer's block, and maybe for a few laughs. Rated T for language mainly. Haven't decided whether or not there will be any pairings. Reviews welcome!
1. The Proposal

Author's Note: This is just a story I wrote for fun to help overcome the dreaded writer's block. It's in several different parts, where I am pretty much making Cutler Beckett's life a living hell. Be honest...who hasn't wished to do so? There were so many instances where I've wanted to punch the dude in the face. This is my chance! So...let me know what you think :3

This was originally posted on my deviantART page, but thanks to the suggestion of a friend (you know who you are :3), I decided to post it here. So, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. Wish I do, but I don't. Just my wild imagination.

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**Chapter One**

Absolute silence. That's what filled the house at 1:00 in the morning on a Saturday, with the exception of my fingers taping on the keys of my laptop. I was working on one of my stories, writing my first real kissing scene. I was completely sucked in by writing this story that I didn't realize what time it really was. I just finished the part where Jack snuck out of Evangeline's cabin when I finally glanced down at the clock on my computer. 1:30 am.

"Shit," I said to no one in particular. "I better call it quits."

I saved my work and then shut my computer off. I quickly changed into my pajama shorts, leaving my favorite Linkin Park shirt on, and climbed into bed. I lay my head on one of my many pillows, but I knew Mr. Sandman would not be visiting me anytime soon. I hardly ever slept anyway.

I crept out of bed again and grabbed my iTouch, and then climbed into bed again. I scrolled through to see if there was anything good to read, something that would help me wind down enough to fall asleep. As I battled with insomnia, I heard a crash coming from my kitchen.

"What the hell?"

I got up out of bed, again, and walked over to my closet. I grab my Nerf Longsword, and carefully opened my bedroom door.

_If Fred got to my fudge again_, I thought. _I'm gonna kill him_.

I carefully tip-toed out of my room, with my foam sword raised up. I walked through the living room and into the small kitchen, where I heard whispering.

"Is it in there, Mister Gibbs?" I heard an all too familiar voice whisper.

"I'm lookin', Cap'n."

"Well, hurry it up, man. We've probably already alerted someone with your clumsiness."

"Yer the one who wanted the rum in the first place, Jack," Mr. Gibbs whisper-yelled.

"How else do you suppose we ask her to help, eh? I'm open for suggestions."

I grinned, knowing all too well who was currently arguing in my kitchen. I lowered my makeshift weapon, if you could call it that, and carefully walked over to the light switch to turn it on. When I did, I saw the figures of Jack Sparrow and Joshamee Gibbs, who was rummaging through my refridgerator, freeze in place.

"You could just ask me, Jack," I said. To Gibbs, I said, "The bottle is in the back, Gibbs."

The first mate of the Black Pearl looked at me and grinned.

Jack turned around to face me. "Xanthe, darlin'. You should be in bed, you know."

I grinned. "I do know that, Captain. And you should be aboard the _Pearl_, sailing the seas, pillaging, plundering, and otherwise pilfering your weasley black guts out."

Jack shrugged. "Trifles."

"So what is it you need to ask me that you thought rummaging for rum would be needed?"

"Nothin' gets past you, does it, love?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"To the point then. How would you like to make a certain someone's life a living hell?"

I hesitated. "I don't know, Jack. I'm not one of those people that likes doing that just for the fun of it."

"What if I knew you would want to make this person's life as such, and took you aboard the _Pearl_ anyway, taking you to Port Royal?"

I narrowed my eyes. Jack must have noticed my glare, because he gestured to Gibbs to hand me the bottle of Captain Morgan's. I took it, popped it open, and then took a good swig. "Who is this person, Jack?"

The pirate captain gave me one of his trademark grins. "Lord Beckett."

Lord Beckett. The sound of the name usually summons vomit from the inner recesses of my mouth. But at the sound of the proposal, the chance to make him pay, how could I say no?

I smiled, knowing that mischief was dancing in my eyes. "I'll go get my things!"

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A/N: That's the end of chapter one. It's a little short, but the fun will begin in the next chapter *grins mischievously* Now, this story is obviously different from the others that I write, and in this one, I'm asking you guys to think of anything that you think I should do to Beckett. I've already got a list of things I want to do (eventually I will punch him in the face). Let me know what you think, by leaving a review! I love feedback, and reviews feed the muse (hey that rhymed!)! :3

~Xanthe :3


	2. Karma's Arrival

Author's Note: What's up guys! Another chapter for ya. Hope you like it.

Now, I'm going to be completely honest. I'm not expecting a lot of reviews for this, mainly because it's just me getting over writer's block on my other stories. But whatever reviews I do get, I appreciate it immensely. On that note, thanks to **linalove** and **Upisdowngirl** for taking the time to review. I means a lot :3

Well, enough of that. On with the story!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or Captain Jack Sparrow, which makes me sad. Also, I do not own any of the following: The Muppets, Fraggle Rock, or Big Bang Theory. They belong to their respective directors and producers.

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**Chapter Two**

"So what's your plan, then?" Jack asked me, not looking up from his charts.

I looked away from examining some books and then towards the captain. "What?"

Gibbs looked to me, anxious. "What are ye gonna do to Beckett?" he asked.

"Oh." I stepped away from the book shelf and towards Jack's desk. To the gentlemen sitting and standing in front of me, respectively, I said, "Well, that is for me to know and you to find out."

Jack looked up his charts. "And how do you expect us to figure that out, eh?"

I smiled and put my hands on the desk surface. "I'm sure you'll be able to, you being as clever as you are."

"Ah," the pirate said, getting up from his seat and walking around the table towards me. "But you and I both know that you'll eventually let it slip, love."

I looked up at him, which was a mistake. Not only was he giving me one of his trademark grins, but my azure orbs made contact with his mesmerizing chocolate brown ones. Oh, how I could get easily lost in them!

I shook my head to clear it of any…unnecessary thoughts, and put my hands up in surrender. "Fine," I said, shrugging. "You've pulled my leg, Captain. I'll tell ya."

Jack's smirk progressed into a smile, one that reached to his eyes. "Well?" he asked.

I smiled. "I made a list."

I heard Gibbs sigh behind me. I looked at the older pirate, and noticed his look of disappointment. "A list?" he asked, somewhat agitated it seemed. "Yer gonna use a list to give Beckett hell?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to use the things _on_ the list to annoy the shit of him. Savvy?"

"Oh. Aye, I get it. Sorry, Miss Xanthe."

I waved it off. "No prob."

Jack tapped me one the shoulder, getting my attention instantly. "May I see said list?" he asked eagerly.

I chuckled. "Sure, but don't expect to understand much on it."

I walked over to my messenger bag and rummaged through it, eventually pulling a piece of yellowed paper. I had written the list as soon as I was aboard the _Black Pearl_. I handed it to Jack, and watched the pirate try to read it. I couldn't help but giggled at his look of confusion.

He looked away from the list and then to me. "What in bloody hell is a flash—?"

I slapped my hand across his mouth, interrupting him. "Shh!" I exclaimed. "You never know who might be listening. And you'll find out soon enough."

I removed my hand from his mouth—his surprisingly soft lips—allowing him to speak. He nodded, and then asked, "And when will that be?"

I shrugged. "Not sure yet, but I'll write to you and let you know."

Jack handed the list back to me with a smirk. "Well, since you are intent on being secret, then I'm not giving you your gift early."

My eyes widened. "You got me a gift?"

"Aye, but you're not getting it 'til your birthday, which is soon anyway."

I got really excited. "Really?" I managed to squeak out. "You got me something for…wait a minute. How do you know when my birthday is?"

I saw Jack tense up, as if the question caused him to freeze up. "Uh…I prefer to maintain my monopoly in that answer."

"Jack!" I whined. "How do you know?"

Another trademark smirk. "Xanthe, darlin', if I told you, I'd have to kill you, which I'd prefer not to."

I crossed my arms across my chest and pouted. "No fair."

"Pirate."

I huffed, and stuck my tongue out.

"So," Gibbs said, calling some attention to himself. "What's the plan, then?"

"What plan?" Jack asked.

"The plan to get Xanthe into Beckett's house hold."

I smiled, forcing myself not to laugh at the hilarity of it all. "If you gents will gather round, I will tell you what the plan is."

xxx

I watched as the harbormaster ordered some redcoats to help me with my luggage, all the while staring at me. It unnerved me for some reason, even though I know why he is looking at me with such curiosity.

_Maybe I should have changed my clothes first_, I thought. I shrugged the thought away. _Oh well_.

One of the soldiers picked up my black art portfolio and didn't walk maybe ten feet before he dropped it. In the dirt, much to my chagrin.

"OI!" I shouted. "Careful with that! It's got all of my art supplies in it!"

I got a couple of curious looks from the harbormaster and some of the surrounding soldiers. I couldn't understand why he dropped it. It wasn't _that_ heavy.

One of the commanding officers walked up to me, after directing a soldier to take my black and blue duffle bag and put in the carriage. I recognized him immediately. It was Lieutenant Groves, I couldn't help but smile. What can I say? I liked the guy.

"Excuse me, miss?" he asked.

"Xanthe," I said, outstretching my hand.

He took it, and smiled. "Miss Xanthe, where are we taking your things?"

"I was hoping Lord Beckett's mansion, Lieutenant," I answered in the best British accent I could muster.

"Of course. Pardon my absent mind. Shall we?"

I nodded. "Let's."

Groves escorted me to the carriage and helped me into it. I felt a smidgen irritated, but I didn't say anything.

_I can get into a carriage myself, thank you!_ I thought.

The carriage ride was relatively quiet as we made our way to Beckett's mansion. I twiddled my thumbs in my lap. Where I knew it was out of anxiousness to get my plan underway, Groves must have seen it out of nervousness.

"It's alright to be nervous, Miss Xanthe," Groves said.

I looked from my lap and to the commanding officer. I played along. "I suppose so."

He smiled. "I'm sure Lord Beckett will be pleased to see you. It will come as a surprise for sure, seeing as how he wasn't expecting any visitors. Least of all family."

I smiled. "I'm sure it will be a surprise he won't forget too easily."

_Not for a very, very long time_, I thought.

"I'm certain it will. He hardly talks about his family. So a visit from a cousin would probably do him some good."

I fought hard to keep from laughing. I wanted to tell Groves that it would do him no good at all, but I didn't. Instead, I said, "I'm certain it will do me good. Living in America sure takes it out of you."

"What part of America, if you don't mind me asking?"

"South Carolina," I said quickly. It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that just yet. Everyone in this town would find out eventually. At least, the officers will anyway.

"Ah," Groves said. "I heard it's lovely up there."

I nodded. "It is."

_I'm sure it is, buddy, but I'll definitely take your word for it_.

Silence fell in the carriage again, and I found myself staring out the window. We were passing through a forest of some kind, so I definitely knew that the mansion was pretty far inland.

_How is he supposed to watch for pirates if he's all the way up here?_ I wondered. _Dumbass!_

I continued to watch the foliage outside. After a few minutes, I got bored, and started to hum. And it was one of the catchiest tunes ever. Most of the people I know would recognize it from _The Muppets_ and _Fraggle Rock_.

"_Mu-nom-mu-nom, do-do-do-do-do,_" I began to sing. "_Mu-nom-mu-nom, do-do-do-do…_"

I kept this up for quite a while, until I heard a male voice join in. I turned and noticed Groves bobbing his head a little. I smiled, and continued with my new singing partner. We went on for about three more minutes until the carriage stopped.

We made it.

Groves exited the carriage first, allowing me to get out. A few servants came out to take my bags, but I shooed them away, telling them that I could do it myself. My words rang true. I had my messenger bag across one shoulder, my duffel bag across the other, my guitar in one hand, and my art portfolio. My guitar and portfolio had nothing to do with my plan, but I figured since I was staying the Caribbean for a while, I figured why not?

Groves held the door open for me, allowing me entrance into the mansion. I couldn't help but stop to take a look at the beauty of it all. I half expected it to be bland and distasteful, but it looked like something you'd expect to see on _House Hunters_. I couldn't help but stand in complete awe.

"Whoa," I breathed.

Groves smiled. "I'll go inform Lord Beckett of your arrival."

I simply nodded, still looking at my surroundings. "Okay."

I only heard footsteps behind me, signaling me that Groves had left the entrance hall. I took that time to examine my enemy's humble abode. I studied every nook and cranny, looking for easy places I could carry out my work. Beckett would have no idea what hit him.

After a few minutes (it felt like seconds to me), Groves returned.

"Lord Beckett will see you now."

"Lovely," I said.

I followed Groves through the different hallways of the mansion, making a mental note of the layout of the place and determining what would be a good escape route, in case I should ever need one. I could hear my first grade teacher' voice in my head, saying, "Safety first!"

I was not going to take that lightly.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, we made it to Beckett's study. Groves held the door open for me, and I nodded my thanks. When I walked in, I couldn't help but smirk evilly. There, standing in front of his desk was the devil himself. Lord Cutler Beckett.

I couldn't help but shudder at the thought of being near the man for the next few weeks.

The shorter man smiled at me (at least, I thought that was a smile. It may have been a grimace). He walked up to me and said, "Welcome to Port Royal, Miss Xanthe. I wasn't expecting company, least of all from family."

"I'm sure you weren't," I said as pleasantly as possible.

"You've already met Lieutenant Groves, I presume. And this," he said, gesturing to a man next to his desk. "This is Ian Mercer."

Beckett's right hand man. How I hated him, too! I looked at him, smirked and nodded, trying to be somewhat civil. Mercer nodded back, but kept the same stoic expression he always uses.

_Sheesh!_ I thought. _Does the guy show any emotion at all?_

"Pleasure," I said. _Not really_.

"I hope you had a safe trip?" Beckett asked.

"More than you know," I said with a smile.

Beckett looked me up and down, no doubt taking in my attire. I all of a sudden felt cold under his gaze.

"Would you like to be shown your room, then?" he asked. "And then, after you've freshened up, we could then catch up over some tea, perhaps."

"Actually," I began. "I'm hoping that someone could take my things to my room and we have some tea now."

Beckett nodded. "Of course." He nodded to Groves, who then took my things off of me, except my messenger bag. I wouldn't let him take it. His arms full of my things, he left, bowing his head as he did so.

As soon as he was gone, and the door was closed, I ran up to the door and locked it. This was probably a bad idea, but I couldn't hold up the theatrical façade any longer. I needed to get my plan underway.

I turned to face a confused Beckett and Mercer. I couldn't help but smile.

"Why on earth did you lock the door?" Beckett asked.

I shrugged. "Honestly?" I said, dropping the accent. "I've no idea."

His eyes narrowed, realizing that I had only been acting. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Definitely not your cousin," I said. "I think I'd rather marry Hector Barbossa than be considered any family to you. And that's saying a lot considering the fact that I'm not a big fan of Barbossa either."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, shut it, shorty. I know you heard me."

"Who are you really?"

I smirked. "I'm not going to grace that question with an answer."

Beckett quirked an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

I began to walk around the study, examining all of his belongings. "Oh, mainly because I've vowed to despise you for all eternity." I looked up in time to see Mercer glare at me.

"Really, Mercer?" I asked in disbelief. "Really? Is that really the only emotion you can show?"

Beckett looked to his associate, and then back to me. "Why are you here?" he asked.

I smiled, and walked over to his desk. I sat in his chair and propped my feet up on his desk surface, the Converse Chucks on my feet balancing on some important looking documents. Not that it mattered to me. "To become your worst nightmare. To make your life, _sir_, a living hell."

I saw Beckett's eyes widen at my statement. "What do you mean?"

I sighed. "Ever heard the saying 'What goes around, comes around'?"

"I am aware of it," was his mere answer.

"Well, it's time to account for your actions then."

"Actions?" he asked. I could see that his curiosity was getting the better of him.

I rolled my eyes, and stood up from the chair. Walking around the room again, I started listing off all of Beckett's past transgressions. "Well, let's see. One, you persecuted hundreds of people who you _suspected_ was a pirate, and had them hung. _Suspected_, not convicted. Two, you…let's see…you practically torture your prisoners for absolutely no reason. And before you say it; no, to get answers is NOT a reason. Three, you kill people just because they know too much. And four…" I paused for a dramatic effect, stopping in front of the two…_gentlemen_…in the room. "And this is rich, you sent an unsuspecting young man off to New Avalon with a hold full of slaves, and then, when he released said slaves, you saw fit to…wait for it…brand the poor guy and send his ship to the depths in a fiery explosion."

I saw recognition sweep over Beckett's features, his eyes widening that very second. I was enjoying every minute of it.

"Jack Sparrow," he managed to say.

I mocked a gasp. "You remembered his name! Good for you!" I exclaimed sarcastically.

The Lord of the East India Trading Company looked at me with an evil smirk on his face. "You are working for Sparrow, aren't you?"

"Working for?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. I shook my head. "Nope. Try working with."

"Ah," he said. "Well, then, Miss Xanthe. I must inform you that you'll not be doing anything against me."

"Oh really?" I asked, loving every minute of this conversation. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you're to be arrested for associating with a pirate." H gestured to Mercer, who then began to walk towards me.

I couldn't help but laugh. "You…you think you can arrest me? That's rich."

This made Mercer stop in his tracks, and Beckett to give me a worried look. Worry for him, no doubt.

"Do explain."

"Dude…" I shook my head, but the smile never went away. "You don't have any jurisdiction over me. So, HA!"

"What do you mean by that?" Mercer asked, talking for the first time since this conversation started.

"What I mean is…is that, you cannot arrest me or…or do anything to me really."

"Under whose authority?"

I produced a piece of parchment from my bag, and shoved it in their faces to take a gander at. "By none other than a Mr. Sheldon Cooper himself. He's in charge of Time Travelers. That certificate states all of my rights as a Time Traveler, and pretty much gives me immunity."

Now, anyone from my time would know that Sheldon Cooper is nothing more than a fictional character portrayed by Tim Parsons on the television show _The Big Bang Theory_. So, of course the certificate was fake. But they didn't need to know that.

"Even if I didn't have the certificate, you still couldn't do anything about it."

Beckett looked up from the fake certificate and said, "And why is that?"

"Because, I'm a Time Traveler. I'm not bound by the laws of this era or any other, except my own."

"And what, pray tell, does that mean?"

I walked up closer to him. "It means that I get to give you hell as long as I don't kill you, and you can't arrest me, torture me, maim me, or hang me. It means you're stuck with me for the next six weeks."

I pat the man on the cheek, and quickly walked away towards the door. I heard a huff behind me, and then fast paced footsteps.

"You can't do this!" Beckett shouted.

I reveled in that sound. I turned on him, my eyes narrowing and most likely dancing with mischief and burning with hatred. I couldn't really tell, since I didn't have a mirror on me. "Unfortunately for you, Beckett, I think you'll find that I can."

He stood looking at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

I smirked. "Karma's a bitch, isn't it?"

Beckett said nothing.

I turned to walk over to the door, but the sound of a pistol being cocked stopped me. I turned around, not fearing the weapon that would surely kill me. Okay, I was afraid, but only mildly.

Mercer held a tiny hand pistol and had it pointed at me. I couldn't help but smirk. "Did you get that off of the desk?" I asked.

He didn't grace that question with an answer. He pulled on the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Mercer kept pulling on the trigger, most likely hoping that it would go off. I just kept smiling, and eventually I began to laugh.

Mercer and Beckett both looked at me as if I had gone mad. I simply held up the six bullets in between my fingers, putting them on display. "FYI, you should probably learn to keep your weapons on you."

At that statement, Mercer pulled out a knife from his lapel, and began to walk towards me.

"COME AT ME BRO!" I shouted.

But the Scottish man never did. Beckett stopped him before he could actually come at me.

"My Lord?" the older man wondered.

"No, Mr. Mercer. We cannot harm her."

I nodded. "That's right. You're learning quickly." With that, I made it to the door and unlocked it. Opening it, I came face to face with Groves.

"Is everything alright in here?" he asked, worry dripping in his voice.

I beamed up at him. I didn't even bother with the act. "Peachy keen, Lieutenant. Just peachy freakin' keen."

I missed Groves' expression at that statement, mainly because I was turning back towards the two flabbergasted men behind me. I gave them a mock bow and said, "Gentlemen, let the payback begin."

I stood up straight and followed Groves out of the room. When we were out of earshot, Groves turned to me, and asked, "What was all of that?"

"That, my good man, was me teaching Beckett a lesson," I said.

I looked up at him, and saw his confused expression.

"Come on, I'll tell ya once you've shown me to my room."

Once we got to the room (which was quite nice, if I might add), I told Groves everything that had transpired in the study, as well as apologized for making him think that I was someone else. He simply laughed, and said, "It is quite alright."

By the end of the conversation, I wasn't the only one who was looking forward to the punishment that I would be handing out to Beckett.

* * *

A/N: So, obviously, this was longer compared to the first chapter. But you enjoyed it, right? I hope so. I had a lot of fun with this chapter, as you can probably see. And I've been wanting to use the line "Come at me, bro!" for quite some time, so don't judge me. Okay, you can judge me, but do it in the safety and privacy of your own home.

I have a list already, but if there is any requests as to what should be done to Beckett, let me know via PM or a review. I'd love to hear from you. I've already gotten one suggestion already!

Check out my Facebook page for updates, pics, and more madness. I posted a couple of pictures of Xanthe on there, so you guys will have an idea of what she looks like.

~Xanthe :3


	3. Shave and a Haircut, and Fried Eggs

Author's Note: I'm back! Fighting writer's block once again! Yay! *sarcastically puts two thumbs up and rolls eyes* Well, that just means we get to have fun with Beckett by torturing him a bit, doesn't it? Yes...yes, it does. :3

Thank you to those who have read this little experiment of sorts and added it to their favorites or are following it. And huge hugs and thanks to my reviewers: **Gothic Unicorn, Guest, linalove, **and **Lady Bluebell Beckett**. You rock!

_Guest: Thank you for the review...and you're very welcome! And I hope you did well in your competition! I'm curious as to which competition, as I used to be a choir girl myself :3_

And, because she made the suggestion that is featured in this chapter, this chapter is dedicated to **linalove**. This one's for you, ma'am!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. Enough said. That means that I don't own Captain Sparrow either...but, maybe if I make a deal with Mickey...just maybe...Also, even though I only made references to them, I don't own anything from What's Eating Gilbert Grape or Sweeney Todd.

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**Chapter Three**

The sound of a pinball machine going off. That's usually what it takes to wake me up in the morning when I have to go to work. Any normal day, my body would wake itself up at around 10:45-11:00 AM. I blame that on my insomnia issues. But this time it isn't the sound of one of my favorite arcade games that wakes me up. Three knocks on the bedroom door stir me from my sleep.

_Weird_, I thought. _Is Mom late for work?_

As my eyes fluttered open, I realize that I'm not in my room. I took a look around at the room—from the baby blue curtains of the four poster bed, to the matching vanity and wardrobe—and remembered where I was.

_Oh yeah_.

I yawned and stretched, getting out of bed to answer the door. Walking by the vanity, I couldn't help but look in the mirror to see how bad my bed hair was. It wasn't that bad. My dirty blonde locks still framed my face, but had poofed out a bit (thank you mom for thick, curly hair). I had dark circles under my blue eyes due to sleeplessness, which nearly matched my black Black Sabbath t-shirt and Guitar Hero pajama pants. I looked like someone out of a Tim Burton movie.

Not really caring about how I looked, I walked to the door and opened it, revealing Groves.

"Good morning, Miss Xanthe," he said with a smile.

"Groves, my man!" I exclaimed. "You know you can just call me Xanthe, right?"

"I apologize. Force of habit."

"Understandable. What can I do for you?"

"I was coming to check on you and see if you wanted to take breakfast downstairs."

"Oh. Yeah, sure."

I walked back into the room to slip on my Alabama slippers and then followed Groves downstairs to the dining area. The table was set up with a buffet of eggs, bacon, biscuits, and an assortment of fruits.

"Sweet!" I exclaimed, running towards the table.

I sat down and started to fill my plate with some fried eggs, a couple of strips of bacon, a biscuit, and a handful of strawberries and grapes. Spotting a china cabinet, I walked over and grabbed a wine glass. Taking it back to the table, I poured some of the tea in and then put in several spoonfuls of sugar. I stirred it up and then sat back down in my spot. I looked up to find that several of the servants were looking at me with expressions of confusion and surprise.

"What?" I asked.

Groves was the one to answer my question. "They're usually the ones who serve at breakfast."

"Meaning making my plate and pouring my tea?"

"Yes."

Looking to the servants, I asked, "That's what Beckett has you do?"

They all nodded.

I smiled. "Well, let me tell you, you don't have to do any of that for me. I'm a big girl, and can get my own food and my own tea." Then an idea popped in my head. "Actually, why don't you guys take the morning off? I'll come up with an excuse for you."

One of the maids looked at me as if I had gone mad. "But, Lord Beckett said—"

"Beckett, Schmeckett. Take the morning off. Read a book, paint…go fishing. God, it's got to be boring to be told what to do all the time, especially by the world's most boring man alive."

There was no arguing with that statement.

"Now, like I said, I'll deal with Beckett, and you guys enjoy yourselves. Now, shoo!"

With smiles on their faces, the servants left the dining area. I looked at Groves with a smile.

"Are you mad?" he asked me.

"Maybe. I'm surprised they haven't committed me yet."

"You are a strange girl," he said, shaking his head.

I stood up, and took a small bow. "Why thank you!"

I sat back down and chowed down on my food. Every few minutes I would look up and across the table. There was a plate set up for another person and I knew it was for Beckett.

"Where's Beckett at anyway?" I asked as I finished off the last bite.

"Most likely still in his chambers. He usually has someone come and get him in the morning."

I smirked. "Does he really?"

"Yes."

I stood up from my spot and walked over to Beckett's empty one. I placed a few still warm fried eggs on his plate and grabbed the syrup. Turning to Groves, I asked, "Which way to his chambers?"

"Second floor. Go down the hall to your right and it will be the double doors at the end."

I smiled. "Thank you!"

Groves gave me a worried look. "What are you planning?"

"I'm just going to give the guy his breakfast and wake him up," I said.

The lieutenant shook his head. "I have a feeling there's more to this. Isn't there?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Not really."

I smirked. "Then no need to worry about it. It'll have nothing to do with you and everything to do with me."

With that, I turned and headed out of the dining room and towards the stairs. I had to be careful with the plate of eggs, so that they weren't spilling off and onto the floor, but I managed to make it to Beckett's room rather quickly. I tested the door knob out to make sure I could get in. Sure enough, the knob twisted easily and I was able to sneak in.

_Dumbass_, I thought. _You're gonna learn that you need to lock your doors._

I tip-toed across the room and found where his clothes were laying out for the day. I quickly, yet carefully (with some skill, mind you), placed some maple syrup on the insides of his blouse in the armpit region, and then placed the eggs on each puddle of syrup. I closed the lid and quickly made my way out of the room.

Once I closed the door, I turned around and then knocked on the wooden surface, playing the tune to "Shave and a Haircut" (or "Match in the Gas Tank" for those who have seen _What's Eating Gilbert Grape_).

I could make out a faint groan from the other side of the door.

"Wakey wakey!" I shouted. "Eggs and bakey!"

There was a moment of silence, and then in seconds, Beckett opened the door. I couldn't help but laugh at his current state. Then again, anyone from my time would laugh at him dressed in a night gown.

"Miss Xanthe?"

"That's my name, don't wear it out. If you want breakfast, you're going to have to get dressed and come to the dining room."

He nodded, and then looked around him. "Where are the servants? I need them to assist me."

I gave him the you've-got-to-be-effing-kidding-me look. "Seriously?"

No comment from the peanut gallery.

I shook my head and smiled at him evilly. "Well, I guess you're just going to have to get dressed by yourself, then. See ya at breakfast! You might want to hurry, because I'm quite hungry and I've already eaten my share of the food. I'm ready to go back for seconds." With that, I turned around and began walking down the hall and back down the stairs.

"Is Lord Beckett awake?" Groves asked me as I re-entered the dining room.

I smiled. "If he isn't by now, he will be soon enough. Though he didn't seem too happy with me when I told him to get dressed by himself."

"What do you mean?" he asked, giving me a confused look.

"Well, I definitely wasn't going in there and helping him."

"No, what did you mean before that?"

"Oh, about him being awake soon?" I smiled mischievously. "You'll see here soon."

Another confused look.

I held up a finger, signaling to Groves to remain silent. Then I started counting down from five on my fingers. As soon as I counted one, a loud scream resonated from upstairs.

"ARGH!"

"Yes!" I exclaimed.

I heard footsteps stomping the floor from above, so I hurried back over to my seat and pulled out my phone. Within seconds, a nearly full-dressed Beckett stormed into the dining area with a look of pure rage and pain on his face. I could help but laugh at how disheveled he looked, and the stains of maple syrup showing in his armpit area. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Groves' eyes widen, and he covered his mouth with his hand. Whether it was to cover up the laugh that was sure to escape, or that he was actually shocked, I don't know.

Beckett's face resembled that of a tomato.

"What the hell happened to you?" I asked through my bouts of laughter, even though I already knew the answer to that question. "You look like someone just trampled you and then threw a tomato in your face. If that's what really happened, then kudos to the guy who did it."

"You know what happened," Beckett said through gritted teeth.

"Do I?" I asked, playing innocent.

"You placed eggs and syrup in my shirt. Hot eggs, I might add."

"Might add? So they weren't hot?"

"They are!"

"Oh, well, then you need to clarify more. People would be able to understand you better. As most of my friends would say, 'Don't tip-toe around the subject'."

"That's not the point!" he exclaimed angrily.

"Yes it is," I said. "Enunciation is key in every society."

Beckett's hands curled into fists at his side. I could see that I was annoying him.

"It is, but the point I'm trying to make is that you deliberately broke into my chambers and vandalized my clothes."

"No, I didn't."

He pointed a finger at me. It almost reminded me of the scene where Judge Turpin points his finger at Sweeney Todd when Antony barged in to the barber shop announcing he was stealing Johanna away. Almost. "You most certainly did!"

"No…your door was unlocked, so I didn't break in. And I only 'vandalized' the one shirt, and that's the one you're wearing, moron."

"It's ruined."

"Oh, boo hoo. You can wash it."

If looks could kill, I would be dead right now.

"Now," I said after snagging another biscuit. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get dressed and then heading into town. That's where I'll be if you need me. So please, for the love of God, don't need me!"

As I headed out of the dining room, I pushed the play button on my phone and in a matter of seconds, Jack singing a chorus of "I've got a jar of dirt!" could be heard throughout the mansion. Much to Beckett's chagrin.

_Number one on the list, done_, I thought.

xxx

I walked around the streets of Port Royal, dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, my favorite Paramore shirts, and my blue and black checkered Vans. My shoulder-length curly, dirty blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail so that I wouldn't burn up in the Caribbean sun. It still didn't help that my clothes were a dark color, so I was practically absorbing the heat surrounding me.

_Maybe I should have thought of that first_, I thought.

I took a bite of the apple that I had filched out of the kitchens in Beckett's mansion, pondering all of the things I was going to do to him. But there was one thought I had that was nagging me at the back of my mind, one thought that I knew couldn't be ignored.

How are Beckett and Mercer alive?

It was kinda scary thinking about them being back from the dead, especially thinking about all of the things they could do now that they were. They had the entire Royal Navy at their disposal, and that had me worried for all pirates, especially Jack and Gibbs.

I was so busy worrying and getting lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear someone call my name.

"Xanthe!" I heard someone shout.

I turned to find Groves running to catch up with me.

"Oh, hey!"

"I've been looking for you everywhere," he said when he finally caught up to me.

"What do you need?"

"Mind if I walk with you?"

"Sure!"

The two of us meandered through the streets, talking about nothing in particular. Groves mainly asked me questions about me, which I answered carefully. But there was one question that I just had to ask.

"Hey, Groves?"

He smiled. "You may call me, Theodore, or Theo, if you really want to."

"Okay," I said with a smile that unfortunately turned into a frown. "Do you ever wonder how Beckett and Mercer are…alive?"

He looked at me with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, they died during the battle against the Brethren Court. How is it that they are alive?"

Groves shrugged. "I'm not sure."

I sighed. "It just doesn't make sense. Maybe if I asked…"

"Ask who?" he asked. "Beckett?"

"No, a certain person whose name I cannot mention." To help Groves understand who I was referring to, I imitated the way Jack walks as best as I could.

He understood immediately. "I see."

We kept walking along until we eventually made it to the docks. I turned to face him, my arms crossing over my chest. "Now that I think of it, how did you…?"

"I have the new captain of the _Flying Dutchman _to thank for that."

"But how? You didn't die at sea. You died at the Fou—"

"Don't mention the name," Groves warned me. "Captain Turner said that—"

I put my hands on his shoulders. "Okay, I get it. Don't mention that. EVER."

"Thank you."

"No prob."

He smiled at me, causing me to do the same.

"Now," I said. "If you'll excuse me, I have a certain 'sea rat' to converse with."

Groves nodded. "Be careful," he said.

I saluted him. "Yes, sir!"

I turned and started to walk off in the direction of where Jack had hidden the _Pearl_. But then I remembered something important, and turned around to face the lieutenant once more.

"Where's Mercer?"

"At the mansion. He had to take care of some business with Beckett this morning," he said.

"So there's no chance of him following me?" I asked.

Groves shook his head. "Not at all."

With that knowledge, I smiled and started running in the direction that I was originally headed. "Thanks, Theo!" I called to the lieutenant as I took off.

Running through the streets, I carefully took in my surroundings to make sure I wasn't being followed by any of the naval officers. When I was certain that I wasn't, I took a small path on the outskirts of the town and made my way down to a small beach. There, a longboat was tied up, and I was able to the small cove hiding my destination.

Hiding a certain captain that I knew had the answers I was seeking.

* * *

A/N: Dun, dun, DUN! Now we'll get to figure out how Beckett and Mercer are alive. But that'll be the next chapter...most likely.

And...my list of things to do to Beckett is complete! I'm still up for suggestions, though guys, so don't hesitate to let me know if there is anything that you would like me to do to Beckett *evil giggle* Also, don't hesitate to let me know how I did. Wow...that sounded like I got that off of the back of an 18-wheeler. You know, the tags that say, "HOW IS MY DRIVING?" or on fast food bags, where it says, "How are we doing?" I'm sure I'm more the latter, as I do not own an 18-wheeler. Although I found one the other day that was covered in Legend of Zelda logos...and I want it. Is that weird? Oh well...

Anywho...thanks for reading. Feel free to join me on Facebook, where I pretty much talk about anything and post updates for my stories. You'll also find covers for my stories there, too :3

~Xanthe :3


	4. Things Go Better With Coke

Author's Note: Hello all! That's right! It's Annoy Beckett Time! Giving Beckett shit (pardon my language) since 2005. Oh yeah...

And I'm not alone today guys. Sitting next to me to enjoy the festivities is none other than my boyfriend. Say hi, Albert!

Albert: hello peoples!

Me: So, I want to thank everyone who has read and subscribed to this story. And special thanks to those who have left reviews, those individuals being **linalove, Gothic Unicorn, **and **Eponine Sparrow**. *sniffs* I love you all!

Albert: Hey...I thought you love me? :(

Me: I do, but I love my readers, too.

Albert: ...Okay. Next time you gotta be clear...

Me: Fine...*mumbling* Sometimes, you're just as bad as Jack...

Albert: What was that?

Me: Nothing!

Albert: Uh huh...

Me: Anyway...enjoy the chapter guys! Albert, would you do the honors of giving the readers the disclaimer?

Albert: Uh...right...the disclaimer...um...what was the disclaimer again?

Me: *giving him the "are you kidding me" face* Really?

Albert: Fine...*sighs* Xanthe does not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any other celebrities or famous themes used in this story. They belong to their respective creators.

Me: And sadly, I don't own Captain Sparrow. Though I wish I did.

Albert: *glares at me*

Me: What? I can look, but I can't touch.

Albert: *smiles*

Me: Well, if you think about it...I get to in this story :D

Albert: *expression falls* Aw...

Me: I love you! *notices him start to walk away* Excuse me while I go cheer him up. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"Miss Xanthe!" I heard Gibbs call over the railing. "What are ye doin' back so early?"

My little rowboat hit the side of the _Black Pearl_ as some of the crew members threw down some line for me to tie the boat up so that they could lift it up and out of the water. As they were heaving, I said, "I have an issue to discuss with your captain. You too."

Gibbs went white. "Me?"

"Yes, you. You tend to know what Jack's up to, know don't you?" I definitely wasn't asking him. I knew that he knew Jack's plan.

"I...I don't..."

"Don't lie to me, Mr. Gibbs. That won't do you any good."

"Aye," he agreed. By now I was standing on the main deck, facing him. "Nothin' ever does get past ye, does it."

"Not really," I said. "Why do you people always seem surprised by that?"

Gibbs shrugged. "It's just that...minus meself, no one has been able to figure Jack out, so ye've got us a bit vexed on how ye do it."

"Sometimes I surprise even myself, Mr. Gibbs." gesturing towards the cabin doors, I added, "Shall we?"

Gibbs nodded and led the way. He quietly knocked on the door, asking, "Cap'n?"

From the other side, we could hear a faint "Come in."

Gibbs opened the door and we walked in. Jack was sitting at his desk, looking over some maps. Upon hearing our footfalls against the wood of the deck, the captain looked up and smiled. The same devilishly charming smile that seemed to catch any girl into his web of deception. The sad part is I am probably one of them. Honestly, who could resist that face? Especially when he pouts.

"Xanthe, darlin'," he greeted me. "What can I do for you today?"

At that second, I remembered how I could resist his charming smile. I was mad at him...about Beckett.

_Stupid Beckett_, I thought. _He ruins everything_. Who knew he could be the root of all of my problems.

"How about explaining to me how Beckett and Mercer are alive in the first place?"

That made Jack's expression fall. "Beg your pardon?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Sparrow, so don't you 'Beg your Pardon' me!"

Jack pouted. "I may know somethin'," he said.

I felt myself soften up a bit. That damn pouty face!

I leaned against the desk, my palms flat on its surface. "How are they still alive? I'm pretty sure Will's not stupid enough to bring them back...Wait!"

I had seen the pirate's expression change as the words came tumbling out of my mouth. My eyes widened in realization at the epiphany I had just experienced.

"No way," I blurted out.

Jack shook his head furiously. "Aye."

"He did not."

"Aye," Gibbs said. "He did, lass."

I looked from Jack to Gibbs, who was wearing a forlorn expression, and then back to Jack, who was looking at me with concern. I could feel the anger rising inside of me, causing me to shake.

I pounded my fist on the table. "That fucking idiot! Why would he do something so stupid?!"

"Beats me," Jack said, shrugging.

I pushed away from the table and began pacing. "Ooooo...wait 'til I get my hands on him! I'll wring his little neck! Why, if I was captain of the Dutchman..."

Jack pointed a finger at me in objection. "Love, you do not have the face for tentacles."

I looked at the captain quickly. "Will's gonna be wishing he had tentacles. Because I'm going to re-arrange his face."

Gibbs became fearful. "Now, Miss Xanthe, no need to go overboard," he warned me, obviously trying to calm me down.

It was definitely working.

I took a deep breath. "Why?" I asked.

"Why what?" Jack asked me.

"Why did Will do it?"

"I think that is somethin' you need to ask him, darlin'."

I looked over at Jack. One look in his eyes and I knew he was right, and I definitely wasn't going to argue with him.

"Then we'll need to call him here," I said.

"And how do you plan on doin' that, eh?" he asked. "He doesn't exactly have your high and fancy-toned future objects, love, so ye can't use them."

"I don't know," I said. "Kill someone?"

"You'd have to be at sea for that to work."

"Well then, how about—"

"How about I answer those questions now?"

The sudden newcomer startled me to no end, and I quickly turned to see who it was. I looked over to Jack, whose facial expression most likely matched mine. One of absolutely confusion and surprise.

It was Will.

xxx

I stood on the deck. It was late in the afternoon now, and I figured it was about time to head back to shore. I had plenty to do and only six weeks to do it. And only two days had passed.

"Oh brother," I exhaled. "This is going to be a long month and a half."

"Best thing to do is take it one day at a time," Will told me.

I looked over to him, frowning. "I don't know how you do it."

He shrugged. "The knowledge that I'll get to see Elizabeth once again is enough to keep me going."

I smiled. "Aw, you two are so cute together!"

This made him go red in the face, and scratch his neck in embarrassment. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, I better head back," he said.

"Yeah, me too. Got plenty to do to Beckett and Mercer before the month is out." At that, I popped my knuckles. "Plenty to do," I added with a smirk.

I said my goodbyes and then got into my rowboat. I rowed to shore as quickly as I could and then hopped out, tying the boat to the small dock. I then ran as fast as I could back to Beckett's mansion. I made it there just as the sun touched the horizon.

_Thank God for dry-land practice_, I thought. _I'm glad Coach Morris made us run the track three times_.

Who knew that dry-land practice for swimming would come in handy?

Just as soon as I made it to the door, a servant had opened it to let me in.

"Thank you, my good man!" I exclaimed, trying to catch my breath. "Right on cue!"

"You're welcome, miss. Did you enjoy you're outing?"

"I certainly did. How was your day, Nigel?"

"It went well, miss. Thank you very much!"

"No problem!"

I walked into the foyer and made my way towards the staircase when I was stopped by the smell of roasted chicken and potatoes.

_Mmmm…chicken,_ I thought.

I walked up the stairs to the second floor and made my way to my room. I was about to turn the knob when I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. I turned to face the sound and saw my worst nightmare walking towards me.

_Ugh! Not Mercer!_

I smirked at him, despite my agitation towards him, and put on the best Scottish accent I could. Though it sounded more Irish. "Well, what can I do ya for, _sir_?"

The only response I received was a low growl.

"Well, I can see I hit a bit of a nerve there," I said, reverting back to my original voice.

"Beckett invites you to join him for dinner."

I snorted. "Me? Beckett wants to have dinner with me? That's rich!"

That got me a glare from Mercer. "Just be downstairs in half an hour." With that, he left.

As I watched him leave, I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Asswipe," I muttered.

I opened my bedroom door and closed it quickly behind me. I took a deep breath in and a deep breath out, and then headed for my bed. I was mentally exhausted. I couldn't stop thinking about what Will had told me, and it was making my head hurt.

"_First of all," I said to Will. "How are you even here? And don't you dare say sea turtles!"_

"_Of course not. I was in the area when I had an unusual feeling. Usually that would happen when Calypso stops by for a visit, but when she didn't appear, I knew there had to be another reason."_

"_An unusual feeling? Like, goose bumps and stuff like that?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Ah."_

"_Now, what is it you needed to ask me?"_

_I looked at Will, and then walked up to him. "Why?"_

_He looked confused. "Why what?"_

_I slapped the former blacksmith on the backside of his head. Then I clarified. "Why the hell did you bring Beckett and Mercer back?"_

"_I had to."_

"_Again, why? There's no reason they need to be alive anymore. In case you didn't notice, last time they tried to KILL every single pirate they could get their filthy mitts on. Including innocent people!"_

"_Xanthe, if I hadn't they would've…"_

"_They would have what, Will?"_

"_They would have harmed Elizabeth."_

_That made me stop and my eyes widened. "What?"_

"_They threatened that she would be hanged if I didn't. I couldn't let them do that."_

"_But how? I mean, it's not like they know where she is."_

"_They don't, and they're not going to."_

"_Um…what do you mean? English please?"_

"_That's why you're here, love," Jack said. "You're keeping them from finding out."_

_I scoffed. "Like that's going to work. I'm only here for six weeks."_

"_Exactly."_

_I was so confused. "What?"_

"_I may have brought Beckett and Mercer back," Will explained. "But they're only back for a limited time."_

_My eyes went wide again. "How did you manage that?!"_

"_Calypso showed me."_

"_Calypso as in Tia Dalma?"_

_Three heads were bobbing up and down in the affirmative._

"_But why would she show you that? I mean…I thought, you know…after everything that has been done to her…"_

"_She has her merciful side, so it seems," Jack commented._

"_And she saw fit to show it upon me," Will said. "After all, I have been carrying out the true duty that was bestowed upon the _Flying Dutchman._"_

"_Ah," I said in understanding. "Gotcha."_

"_And that's why you're here. Apparently, it was Calypso who was able to let you come back through time. To help put things right."_

_I smiled. "I'll do better. Don't you worry, Will. I'll make sure Elizabeth stays safe. I promise."_

"Easy promise to make, I guess," I muttered to myself.

_No, I can't think like that,_ I thought. _I can do this. Elizabeth will be alright._

I lay on my bed, grabbing my iPod and putting on some music. Feeling a bit parched, I got up and walked over to my cooler that I had brought with me. I pulled out a Dr. Pepper and began chugging it down. As I took my fourth swig, a thought occurred to me. I looked at my cooler.

_I brought Coke as well, _I thought.

A smile spread across my face. I placed the cap back on my beverage and put it back in the cooler. I then grabbed a bottle of Coke-a-Cola and a box of Mentos out of my duffel bag. I then put a handful of the mints in the bottle and closed it up. I put some duct tape around the cap to keep it spilling out and then left my room. I headed downstairs and then into the dining room. Servants were already setting the table, placing a plate of the roasted chicken and a bowl of potatoes, along with other vegetables and desserts on the table. Just as I had entered the room, Groves spotted me and smiled.

"Hello, Xanthe," he said. "How are you this evening?"

"Fan-freaking-tastic! Knowing things makes everything better!"

"I take it you figured out how Beckett and Mercer are still around?"

I smirked. "Yep!"

Groves noticed the item in my hand. "What is that?"

"This," I said, holding the bottle up higher for him to see. "Is a little concoction that I mixed together for the Lord of the EITC. Maybe Mercer, too, if he's close enough."

"I see," the lieutenant said.

"May I borrow your pistol?"

"Why on earth do you need it?"

"You'll see. Trust me."

Hesitantly, Groves handed me his pistol. I took it gladly and sat down at my spot at the opposite side of the table. Just as I did, Beckett made his so-called grand entrance. Everyone bowed to him, except for me of course.

Beckett seemed to notice, because as he sat down, he said, "You didn't bow, Miss Xanthe."

"Oh?" I asked. "I was supposed to bow?"

"Yes," he said as he placed his napkin in his lap.

"Well," I began, cutting a piece of chicken and putting it on my plate. "If I recall correctly, the bow is used as a sign of respect, right?"

"That is correct."

I placed a big spoonful of potatoes onto my plate and began eating. "With that being the case, I'm not going to bow because I have absolutely no respect for you."

Beckett paused in cutting his chicken. "I see."

"Yeah, so, I'm not. I don't know why you expected me to do so."

"Perhaps, Miss Xanthe," Beckett said in his obnoxious monotone. "It is because you are present in my house."

I took a bite of my chicken. "So? Your point? Just because it's your house, doesn't mean that I have to be nice to you, because I sure as hell am not."

Beckett put down his silverware and grabbed his cup of tea. "Did they not teach you manners where you're from?"

"Why, yes they did. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to waste my good manners on you. Not in a million years."

"Miss Xanthe—"

"My Lord Beckett," Mercer interrupted. "You had wished to see me?"

"Yes, feel free to join us, Mr. Mercer."

I glared at the agent. "Ian," I said with a touch of venom.

"Miss Xanthe," he said as equally venomous.

We continued to eat in silence. The fact that Mercer was there was beyond me.

_What's he doing here anyway? Beckett just calls him in here for something and they don't say anything? _I wondered. _Pretty shady stuff._

Then I suddenly remembered my plan. Both of them were in the same room and it would work out perfectly.

_Hehehehehe._

I grabbed the bottle from the floor and shook it up really good. I stood from my spot, hiding the bottle behind my back. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Groves looking at me, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"You know, Beckett," I said. "Maybe…I can be nice to you."

This made both Beckett and Mercer stop and look at me. "Really?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah." I began to walk toward him. "So much, in fact, that I'd like to give you something."

"And what, may I ask, is this gift."

Now I was standing in between him and Mercer. I pulled the Coke bottle from behind my back and placed it in between both men. "Just this."

I walked back over to my seat and sat down. I had placed the bottle in the exact spot where it needed to be. I pulled Grove's pistol from underneath my chair and cocked it. The sound startled both men.

"Then again," I said. "Nah…I'm not going to be nice to you."

Both Beckett and Mercer were confused. I pulled the pistol out in full view and aimed it at the bottle. Before either of them had time to react, I pulled the trigger. The bullet hit its target, causing an explosion of sorts, spraying both men with Coke.

"SCORE!" I shouted, quickly standing up with both hands in the air. I resembled that of a football fan watching as their team scored a touchdown.

Seeing the looks on their faces, I began to laugh. Since I had already finished my meal, I quickly ran out of the dining room and up the stairs to my room. Once safely inside my room, I locked the door and then plopped onto my bed, laughing so hard that it was possible I could die from lack of oxygen.

"Xanthe: 2. Beckett and Mercer: 0," I said out loud.

I could now scratch number two on my list off.

* * *

A/N: Well, the good news is, I cheered Albert up! Yay!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I have to tell ya, I enjoyed writing this chapter. Especially the Coke and Mentos scene. Hehehehe! Well, feel free to leave a review. I'm curious to see what you thought of it! And I'm always open for suggestions!

Don't forget to join me on Facebook for all sorts of goodies! I'm still thinking of having a virtual tea party if anyone wants to go. Anyone? No? Oh, well...more tea for me.

Also, I have ideas for a new story. It's a Ninth Gate/Secret Window crossover called _The Ninth Possession_. I have a sneak peek posted on my deviantART page. The link is on my profile and on my FB. Check it out, if you're interested.

Well, that's all from me. Gonna have to pick Albert up from work, so...see ya!

~Xanthe :3


	5. An Explosion of Fun

Author's Note: I'm not dead, I swear. I've just been caught up with work...being a receptionist for an optometrist. I know, I'm lame, but it pays the bills (so to speak). This should have been posted earlier, but was being really mean to me and not letting me post it. How rude!

Huge thanks to those who have read this little story. Special thanks to **Eponine Sparrow, Gothic Unicorn, linalove, ** and **TheSage96 ** for their awesome reviews. You rock!

This chapter is dedicated to **linalove**, because she's had a rough week last week. I love you, ma'am, and hope this cheers you up!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, or Captain Sparrow...*sighs* I wish I did. I also don't own Llamas with Hats. That hilarity and dementedness belongs to . It's on YouTube if you're interested.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_~One Week Later~_

I lay on my bed, looking up at the canopy above me, the black curtain above me reminding me of the night sky. I changed the song on my iPod to Back in Black by AC/DC and sigh.

To say I was bored would be an understatement. I'm supposed to be making a dress for me to wear around Port Royal so that I don't draw attention to myself, but I haven't been motivated enough to even leave my room.

I was going to replace all of the ribbons in Beckett's wigs to pink ones, but I had left my ribbons at home, and the tailor was out. Mainly because the day I went in to buy them, a high class girl around my age had bought them all with a smug look on her face.

_Bitch_, I couldn't help but think.

So here I am, sitting here with nothing to do.

"I guess I could visit Jack," I said quietly, knowing very well there was a possibility that Mercer or Beckett could be listening in. "At least I could have a stimulating conversation with him."

I got up and, noticing that it was raining, grabbed my raincoat and slipped on my rain boots (Yes, I have rain boots. So what?) I slipped my iPod into my pocket, turning off the music so that I wasn't getting any more curious looks from the locals. I ran down the stairs, and I couldn't help but start singing.

"_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!  
We pillage, we plunder, we trifle and loot  
Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!  
We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot  
Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!  
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!_"

I had made it to the front door by the time I had begun the second verse, and could have sworn up and down that someone was humming along with me. I turned and noticed that Nigel had joined in with a smile on his face.

I smiled back. "Nigel," I said. "You surprise me! I had you pegged as a guy who can't stand pirates."

The butler grabbed the door handle and pulled it open for me. "My mother always said I was full of surprises. In all honesty, miss, anyone who challenges Beckett or the East India Company is a friend of mine."

I nodded. "I'll have to keep that in mind next time."

Nigel gestured towards the open door. "After you, miss."

"Thank you!" I started to walk down the steps, pulling my hood over my head to keep from getting wet, but I quickly turned to face the butler again. "You know, Nigel. You remind of a TV character that's pretty well known in my time. You look like him, too."

I could tell him that. He already knew who I was and what was going on.

"And who would that be?"

I put my hands in my pockets. "His name is Niles. He was a butler, too. Sarcastic and witty. He got along with the nanny for the most part."

"Not that I'll ever be able to watch it, but what is this TV show called?"

I smiled, knowing very well he wanted to say moving picture. "_The Nanny_. But Niles was always my favorite."

It wasn't a lie. I really did like Niles and his sarcastic comments, especially the ones towards C.C. I always hated her.

I waved and said, "See you later, Nigel." With that, I turned and followed the path towards the town.

I really like Nigel. He is a lot like Niles. He actually took part in a prank I pulled on Beckett not but three days ago.

_I was walking with Nigel in the market, heading for a tailor. I needed to get a dress made so that I could blend in more with my surroundings._

We made it to the tailor's shop. It wasn't very big, but big enough to fit at least 20 people in here at the same time. They had a few dresses on display, which I noticed towards the front of the shop.

I couldn't stop from cringing. If there was one thing I was adverse to, minus being in close proximity with Beckett and Mercer, it was the idea of wearing a dress. I know there's nothing wrong with it, but I just don't like wearing them, even on special occasions.

I groaned.

"It's not all that bad, miss," Nigel said. "It'll only be for your time here."

"I know, but...I really HATE dresses. They're so uncomfortable and impossible to run in. Same goes for heels."

Nigel walked in front of me and towards a deep blue gown. It almost reminded me of the red dress that Belle wore in Beauty and the Beast: Enchanted Christmas.

"Think of it this way, Miss Xanthe. You could always wear your normal shoes underneath. It's not as if someone will be lifting your skirts and having a circus in there, and showing off your footwear."

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I blush most likely fifty shades of red. "Nigel!" I squeaked.

"Well, would you rather me help you or make it worse for you?" he asked, holding up a pair of ultra-expensive-looking heels.

My eyes went wide. "I'd rather you be helpful."

"Of course. I noticed your aversion to them as soon as got closer to the shop, miss."

"Am I really an open book?" I asked.

"Not really," he said reassuringly. "But I noticed your look of disgust as soon as we walked in."

I nodded. "You're good."

"What do you think of this one, miss?"

Nigel was gesturing toward the replica of Belle's dress that I noticed earlier. I had to admit, it was gorgeous.

"This may come as a shock to you, but I like it," I said. "It's beautiful."

"Shall we get this one then?"

"Umm...maybe I should try it on first."

I tried on the dress. I was very impressed. For a heat and death trap, it fit nicely.

"Yeah, I definitely like this one."

I was looking in the mirror they had set up in the back, reminding me a little of the David's Bridal stores. My eyes appraised everything from the material to the design. I looked away from the dress and that's when I spotted it. The perfect dress, which is saying a lot considering the way I am.

It was a light blue color, an exact replica of Alice's first dress in Tim Burton's adaptation of Alice in Wonderland. I couldn't believe it. I turned around and walked up to it, taking some of the material into my hands.

"This one," I managed to say, getting over my initial shock that the dress even existed. "I want this one."

"My apologies madam," the tailor said. "But that dress has already been sold to this gentleman here." He gestured to a well-dress guy standing by the counter. "Bought it for his wife. Says it matches her eyes."

I felt crushed. "Oh. I see."

As Nigel and I paid for the dress I had tried on, I stared at the man who bought the Alice dress. He looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on who he was.

Whoever he is_, I thought._ He's on my list.

His hair was really distracting. I had always thought that higher-class men in this era had to wear white wigs. I guess I was wrong.

Wait...wig...My list!

"Oh!" I exclaimed.

I must have startled Nigel, because he nearly dropped the box the dress was in. "Is something the matter?"

I looked at the butler with a smile on my face. "How would you like to help me with a prank?"

"On Lord Beckett, miss?"

"Yep!

"Count me in"

I laughed at the memory. Beckett had been called away for business, giving Nigel and me plenty of time to dye all of Beckett's wigs black. I went the extra mile on one of them by spiking it into a Mohawk on top with the styling gel I just happened to have. Thank God someone had the decency to create got2b Glued products. I couldn't breathe after Beckett put that one yesterday. Some of the servants are still trying to get the dye out of the wigs. I kinda felt bad for them, but not for Beckett.

I looked around me, making sure that no one was following me. Seeing that the coast was clear, I made my way to the beach I had hid my longboat. I climbed in and rowed towards the Black Pearl.

As soon as I pulled up next to it, I tied my boat to the side of the ship and started to climb up. Some crew members were mulling about, but most were inside due to the weather. I walked over to Jack's cabin and knocked on the door.

"Come in," I heard him say from the other side.

I quickly walked in and closed the door. I turned to face the captain, only to feel myself blush. Jack was only wearing his trousers.

At the sound of the door closing, Jack looked up from his maps, surprised to see me, if his expression was anything to go by.

"Xanthe, darlin'," he said. "How kind of you to drop by. I was beginnin' to think you we're enjoyin' being up in that mansion."

"Pfft! Please. It's boring up there when I'm not pestering Beckett. I'd rather be here on the Pearl than up in his fancy house."

"Ah. Well then. You're welcome here anytime, love."

"Well, thank God for that!"

At that moment, I couldn't help but recall a line from one of my favorite YouTube videos. I just couldn't help myself.

_Well, thank God the children weren't on board to see that._

_Hey, wait a minute..._

I smiled at the new plan my brain was beginning to hatch. I must've had a far off look about me, because then Jack asked, "Are you alright there, love?"

I nodded. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"I know that look. Those wheels are turnin', eh?"

"Yes, they are." I looked up at Jack, who seemed to have gotten up to stand next to me while I was in my daze. "Do you mind if we bring a couple of my friend's here?"

A confused look. "What for?"

"Oh, just another brilliant scheme of mine to annoy Beckett," I said smiling.

"Oh, well, in that case...how many we're you thinkin'?"

I counted on my fingers of how many of my friends would be needed for this endeavor. "Umm...6 or 7. They're very trustworthy, I assure you."

"That's quite a bit of people traveling across time, love."

"Yeah, but I'm sure we can handle it. If not, we can down size."

"What's your plan then?"

I leaned up and whispered in his ear my plan, one I thought was the most hilarious that I had come up with. I stepped back to see his reaction. It was one of complete surprise and, dare I say, pride.

"That's brilliant, love."

I smiled, my heart swelling with my own pride. "Thank you. It wasn't originally on my list, but plans change. This was completely spontaneous."

"Well, I suppose we should pick up these friends of yours, aye? Oh, one thing before we leave."

Jack walked away from me and towards the side cabin. He opened the door and walked, quickly walking back out carrying a white box.

"What's that?" I asked.

Jack handed the box to me. "Your birthday present."

My eyes widened. "Really?" I pulled out my phone to check the date. February 27. I had forgotten my own birthday.

"Well, open it," Jack urged me. He seemed to be just as excited as I now was.

I tore the ribbon off of the box and flipped the lid. I couldn't believe my eyes. Nicely folded in the box was the dress I had wanted in that shop three days ago.

"What? But how...?"

That's when it clicked. Why the gentleman in the shop looked so familiar.

I looked up at Jack, try to fight back the tears I knew were coming. "That was you in the shop wasn't it? You bought it?"

"Right you are," Jack said with one of his famous smirks. "I remembered you tellin' me how much you liked that dress, so when I saw it..."

I smiled. "Going soft there, eh, Captain?"

Jack shrugged. "I wouldn't say that for certain, but—"

I cut him off, knowing he would try to talk his way out admitting that he was growing a bit soft. How? I wrapped my arms around his middle and hugged the man.

"Thank you."

After a minute, I felt Jack's arms wrap around me, returning the hug.

"You're welcome, love."

We stayed like that for God knows how long. It wasn't until someone knocked on the cabin doors that we broke from the hug.

I blushed while the captain cleared his throat.

"Uh...come in," Jack called out.

Gibbs poked his head in through the door. "Orders, Cap'n?"

"Prepare to make sail. We heading a few miles out to sea."

"What for?"

"Back to the future!" I exclaimed.

xxx

It was a nice day today. Nice enough to enjoy tea out on the porch, or patio for some. At least it would be if I didn't have to be accompanied by Beckett and Mercer.

The drawback of a brilliant plan.

I had decided to wear the Alice replica dress for this momentous occasion. When we went to the future, we made a quick pit stop in 1865 so that I could purchase the same shoes Alice wore in the movie. I also took the time to make the same gloves she wore too. Talk about cos-playing.

"You look stunning, Miss Xanthe," Beckett said.

I took a sip of my tea. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Can you blame me for my efforts?"

"Yes," I said, placing my cup on the table. "Seriously, what part of 'I hate your guts' do you not understand?"

I turned to where I was looking out towards the water. A ship with pure white sails slowly came into view. I couldn't help but smirk.

"I see you appreciate my new ship," Lord Annoying observed.

"Yes. I'm burning with an explosion of appreciation."

I got a confusing look from both men, who had taken the time to look up from their paperwork and tea.

At that moment, one of the "servants" came outside to clean off one of the tables on the patio. He was wearing a peculiar pink hat with a flower on it. Another "servant", this one dressed more like a stable hand and wearing a green hat, walked out onto the patio, tracking mud across the carpet that been strategically placed on the patio, or porch floor.

Paul, the "servant" with the pink hat, turned around to see the damage the stable hand had inflicted upon the carpet.

"Carl!" he whined. "You've tracked mud all over the carpet!"

"Now that right there is a mess," Carl had said.

"I just had this cleaned yesterday, Carl."

"I'm not responsible for this. I've been jamming on the saxophone all morning."

I looked over at Beckett and Mercer, who seemed confused by the conversation taking place. I feigned said confusion and ignorance.

"They're clearly your footprints, Carl," Paul observed.

"Then there is an imposter on the loose!" Carl exclaimed.

"They lead directly to you!"

"Clue number one: the imposter is a phantom."

"Carl, stop avoid—"

Paul was interrupted by the sound of an explosion. Off in the distance, Beckett's ship, the Wicked Wench Mark II as he called it, had gone up in flames.

Paul looked from the ship to Carl. "Carl!" he whined.

"Happy Birthday!" Carl exclaimed.

"It's not—please tell me you had nothing to do with this."

"Why don't you blow out your candles?"

"You've gone too far this time!"

"What's that? I can't hear you over the sound of melting ship!"

"How did you even do this?"

"A dollop of dairy dust," Carl merely answered.

"Carl—"

"I ripped the tag off of a mattress."

"This isn't funny!" Paul exclaimed hysterically.

"Who's laughing? Clearly not all the people that just exploded."

"I'm leaving. I've had enough of this."

Paul began to walk away, but Carl stopped him by saying, "But think of all of the perfectly roasted face we get to munch on now."

"W-why?"

"Because we're friends. And friendship is two pals munching on well roasted face together."

Paul looked appalled. So did Beckett and Mercer.

"That isn't friendship, Carl. That's sick!" Paul explained.

"Well, then you're probably not going to like your birthday decorations."

"It's not even my—oh my God."

I noticed Paul's eyes widen. It turned to see what he was looking at. There, attached to balloons, were floating "human faces".

"Surprise!" Carl exclaimed.

"Oh...oh no...aww..."

"I'm sorry. I thought you liked faces. Apparently there was a miscommunication."

"This is awful, Carl!"

"You're right. They're not as tasteful as I had pictured."

"I think I'm gonna throw—oh, one just touched me!"

By now, some of the balloons had floated down towards our small group. I got up to get away from one to feign my disgust, while Mercer moved Beckett toward the wall, towards safety.

"This was clearly not the way to go."

"You think, Carl?" Paul asked sarcastically.

"What can I say? I expected them to be cooked more. Raw face is just gross."

"But that isn't the problem, Carl. Why would you think any of this was a good idea?"

"Probably because I'm a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence."

A moment of silence, and then cue Paul.

"Oh."

"I don't understand how you keep forgetting that."

"I don't either," I said, drawing attention to myself.

"Enough!"

Everyone turned to face a very desperate Beckett.

"You two," he said, pointing to Paul and Carl. "I'll see that you hang for this."

"For what?" Carl asked.

"For the destruction of property belonging to the East India Trading Company, the murder of innocents, and cannibalism."

Paul, Carl, and I looked at each other—Paul at Carl, Carl at me, and me at both of them. Within seconds, we busted out laughing.

"BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"This is a serious matter," Mercer pointed out. "Not a laughing one."

I wiped a year from my eye from laughing so hard. "Oh, you should have seen you're faces!"

"Miss Xanthe, what is the meaning of this?" Beckett demanded.

After I calmed down, I managed to say, "Well, let's start at the beginning, shall we? One, you can't do anything to these guys at all, whatsoever."

"And why the bloody hell not?"

"Well, because they are my friends and I'd kill you if you tried. That, and they are time travelers as well."

"WHAT?!"

"That's right! Two, as you seemed to have failed to notice, those aren't real human faces. They are actually slices of bacon stuck together on the back of a piece of paper yours truly had fashioned to look like bleeding human faces. Three, another thing you failed to notice was that there was actually no one on your ship. A rowboat escaped just in time for the explosion to occur."

"Exactly," Paul pointed out.

Beckett looked like he was going to be sick. "You mean—"

"This was all an elaborate plan to annoy you, scare the shit out of you, and to piss you off. As always."

The Lord of the EITC paled drastically. He could almost blend in with snow.

"Hopefully you didn't leave any important documents on the Wench Mark II. But, oh wait." I paused for dramatic effect. "Didn't you tell me that you had put the ship's papers in the captain's cabin for safe keeping. The ones claiming ownership over Mark II?"

Beckett looked like he was about to die. "Yes," he barely uttered.

"Oohhhhhh!" Paul, Carl, and I exclaimed.

"Gee, that's just too bad," Carl said sarcastically.

"Sucks to be you, dude," Paul said.

I walked up to Beckett and Mercer, smiling my most sweetly sarcastic grin. Close to the Chesire Cat's, but not quite there yet.

I sighed. "I guess...now you know what it feels like losing something that's important to you."

Beckett's eyes narrowed at my observation. I had definitely hit a nerve there.

I leaned close to his ear, more like bending closer, and whispered, "That was for Jack."

Satisfied by seeing the devil's eyes widen, I stood up straight and backed away. "Have a nice day," I said.

I turned towards my friends, whose names were actually Blake and Chris, and linked arms with them. We walked through the threshold and back into the mansion. As we passed the living area, I shouted, "Xanthe: 4. Beckett and Mercer: 0"

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I about died when I came up with it. Thank God I was alone in the office when it came to me, and on lunch break! Let me know what you think, and don't forget to join me on Facebook!

Well, I'm off to work :/ See ya guys later!

~Xanthe :3


	6. Xanthe Style

Author' Note: FINALLY! I am able to post the next chapter now...it's about time. Sorry to keep you guys waiting, but I hope that you enjoy this chapter. It's a pretty long one, too, so keep that in mind.

Thanks to those of you who are reading this and sending me ideas. Huge thanks out to **Lady Bluebell Beckett, Eponine Sparrow** (_you have no idea how freakin' excited I was that you recognized Llamas with Hats right of the bat_),** linalove, **and **BlackestSlytherin**. You awesome people make me very happy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Pirates of the Caribbean_, no matter how badly I want to. Neither do I own _Gangnam Style_ or _Blow_. Those songs are owned by PSY and Ke$ha respectively.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Xanthe Style  
**  
"So...what's the plan, then?"

I looked over at my friend, Patti, and smiled. "The plan is to annoy the hell out of Beckett. I thought we've been over this already?"

Patti rolled her eyes. "I know that. But what's the plan for your next stunt?"

"Oh, right. Sorry...currently suffering from sleep depravation."

"Are you going to die his wigs?" my friend Blake asked.

I shook my head. "Nope. Niles already helped me with that."

"Well, then..."

"Anyone want to take a wild guess?"

I looked at all of the friends I had gathered for the next fees stunts I had planned. We had all gathered in Jack's cabin, convening to discuss who was doing what. We were sitting around the desk with Jack and myself at the head of the table.

Everyone shook their heads. It seemed as though no one had any ideas to share.

"Okay, then...well, let me begin with telling you that I have been forced to go to relatively boring party with Lord Blech and Mr. Manhandler. Apparently, King George II is making a special appearance here in Port Royal. As in, he is already here."

There was a collective "Blech" going around the cabin, the loudest coming from Jack.

"You've got to be joking," my friend Vicky said.

"Nope. But that's okay."

"What do you mean?" Chris asked. The look on his face said that he thought I was nuts.

"What I mean," I began to explain. "Is this would be the perfect opportunity to get at Beckett."

"Why is this a good opportunity?" Blake asked. "Wouldn't every day be a good time to annoy him?"

"Yes, but I would like to drag it out. I don't want to do everything on my list all at once. Then I would get bored."

I noticed Jack's brow furrow and his lips curl into a frown.

"During my time with, Beckett," I amended.

"But what's so special about this event?"

"What's the one thing that Beckett is always looking to do around the King?"

No answer.

Jack interjected before I could say anything. "He's looking to impress. Beckett wants to move up in rank. If he does that-"

"Then it's extremely bad news for pirates," my friend Jasmine pointed out.

"Precisely," I said.

"But that doesn't answer my original question!" Patti exclaimed. "What's the plan?"

I smiled. "A flash mob, my dear Patti."

"But...I thought you can't dance?"

Jack and I shared a knowing glance. "I've been practicing."

"Hehehe," Blake snickered. "I've got to video tape this."

"That's actually a good idea," I said sarcastically. "And when we're done, you can put it on YouTube!"

"Really?" Chris asked.

"No."

"Aw man!" Chris and Blake exclaimed in disappointment.

"Guys," Vicky interjected. " We're not here to humiliate Br—Xanthe. We're here to humiliate Beckett."

"Thank you, ma'am," I say, ignoring her almost slip-up.

"So what song are we flash mobbing to?" Jasmine asked.

"Well," I began. "Not sure how many of you are going to hate me for this, but…"

"Xanthe," Patti said softly, albeit a bit sternly. "What are we dancing too?"

I took a deep breath and exhaled. I looked at my friends, each and every one of them. I wasn't sure who was going to be happy with me after I told them, but I trusted them to support me in every way.

"The song we're dancing to is…"

xxx

_~Two Days Later~_

The carriage ride to the Governor's Mansion was a long, boring one. I was dressed in my Alice dress again (considering my other gown had undergone an appearance change due to an unfortunate baking incident) along with the gloves and boots. I was currently sitting across from Beckett and Mercer, much to my chagrin.

_Why couldn't I have rode in a separate carriage?_ I wondered.

Thankfully, though, Groves had come along for the ride.

"Thanks for coming along, Theo," I told him.

"It was no trouble at all," Groves assured me.

I couldn't help but smile. Groves was really nice—that's why I liked him.

I heard a cough coming from across from me, and I slowly turned to face Beckett.

"Now, Miss Xanthe," he began. "I would appreciate it greatly if you would promise me that you will behave while we are in the presence of the King."

"I make no promises," I said. "Especially to you."

I heard Mercer growl.

Looking at him, I said, in a Scotish accent, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I offend ye, laddie?"

Mercer sat up quickly, but Beckett stopped him.

"Oh, wait…" I said in my normal accent. "I don't care."

"Take care of what you say in front of the King," Groves warned me. "You never know how he will retaliate."

"No worries. I've got this figured out."

"Do you, now?" Beckett asked. "Pray tell, what is your plan?"

I gave him the evilest smirk I could manage. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

There was no way in hell that I was going to tell him my plan.

Beckett looked like he was about to say something, but the abrupt stop of the carriage stopped him. We had arrived.

One of the Governor's servants opened the door, allowing us to exit the carriage. Groves got out before me, and helped me out.

"Thank you, kind sir."

"You're very welcome."

The four of us walked up the stairs and entered the mansion. Another servant asked for our names, and then announced our arrival.

"Lord Cutler Beckett and Miss Xanthe Kingsleigh," he called out over the noise in the ballroom.

And that's when I saw him….the rolly polly figure of King George II. At the sound of our names (most likely at the sound of Beckett's), he turned and headed in our direction.

I looked to Groves and whispered, "Help me."

It was too late. One of the aristocracy pulled him away, and I was left to my own devices.

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath.

"Ah, Lord Beckett!" I heard the drawl of the King. "What a pleasure it is to see you here."

"The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty," Beckett replied.

"It is upsetting to hear about what happened in the middle of the Caribbean a year ago. We feared that you had been claimed by the sea."

"It was luck, I suppose, that kept me alive."

_You wish it was luck_, I couldn't help but think. I wanted to throttle the man.

"And who is this lovely creature?"

The King's question brought me out of my daze, my daydream of beating to absolute crap out of the lord of the EITC.

I bowed…no, curtsied, and then in a British accent, I said, "Xanthe Kingsleigh, Your Majesty." I hated being polite to him, but I had to keep the charade up as long as possible.

"And how is it you came into the company of Lord Beckett? I was not aware he was betrothed."

I nearly puked right then and there. I choked it down, and felt the anger rise within me when I noticed Beckett's smirk.

_Find that amusing, do you?_

"Friend of the family, actually. Our fathers were friends and colleges. My father had saved him from a pirate attack, and they had a fast friendship since then."

"That was very brave of your father," the King said, seeming to be quite impressed. "I'll have to commend him. Where is he?"

"Unfortunately, Your Majesty, my dear Papa died several months ago due to an unfortunate illness. Poor Mama…she couldn't bear the fact that he was gone. She joined him in heaven shortly after. She was mugged and dumped in the river."

"That is terrible. But how come I've never heard of any of these unfortunate circumstances?"

"We have been living in the colonies for the past few years. Over in the New World. It was written in my father's will that I would be sent here to live with a friend of the family. He said that he was calling on an old debt."

The King nodded in understanding. "I see. It is commendable what Lord Beckett is doing then."

"Yes," I said. "It's very kind of him to offer his home to me. Even if it's forced."

"Yes, well…one must respect the wishes of the dead."

"My thoughts exactly, Your Majesty."

I saw a few couples making their way towards the center of the room, some of them lining up across from each other. Sensing that a dance was about to begin, I turned to the King.

"Do you dance, Your Majesty?" I asked politely.

"I used to," he said. "But unfortunately, I was forced to cease due to a battle injury."

"Ah," I said in understanding. "Of course. The Battle of Dettingen."

"You heard of it?"

"Of course. Everyone has heard the story of the King's bravery as he valiantly led his troops to victory against the French."

"Well," King George began. "Since I cannot join you for this gigue, I believe that Lord Beckett would be a more suitable partner than I."

My eyes widened. _You've got to be joking._

I saw Beckett extend his hand towards me with a smirk on his face. Reluctantly, I took it and allowed him to lead me to the dance floor. We joined the other couples in a spritely gigue. Thank goodness for that, because I didn't think that I would last the whole night dancing with an egotistical asshole like him.

As the dance began, I couldn't help but throw an evil glare at him. I could tell by the smug grin on his face that he was enjoying this way too much.

_He's enjoying this?! _I thought with absolute irritation. _GRRRRRR!_

"You know," I said. "If all of these people weren't around I'd wipe that grin off your face."

"Come now, Xanthe," Beckett said in a calm manner. "Enjoy the party while you can."

"Oh, trust me," I said. "I will be later on. You can count on that."

"And why's that?"

"Because then I won't be dancing with you. In fact, I wont be near you at all."

"Why, Im wounded."

"Oh, cut the bullshit."

"Ah, ah, ah," Beckett reprimanded. "That's not language for a lady."

By now we were halfway through the dance. The two of us turned, at which time I said, "I guess it's a good thing that I don't care, huh?"

Beckett gave me one of his grins that I absolutely hate. "I think that youll eventually see things my way."

I about died on the inside of laughter. "You wish."

"Come now," he said. "You don't want your days here to be filled with complete turmoil, do you?"

"If it has to do with you? Yes."

"Am I really that terrible of an individual?"

I was about to say, "Well, no shit, Sherlock," through my agrivation, but instead, I said, "Im not going to grace that question with an answer."

By now, I could hear the music slowing down, signaling that the dance was about to come to an end.

"I wonder how your parents are able to put up with you," Beckett drawled out. "You're inpolite, and quite opinionated if I do say so myself."

As he carried on with how rude I was and how I wasn't raised the correctly, I heard the music end.

_FINALLY!_ I thought.

"Especially since Im your host," I heard him concluded.

I merely looked at him and gave him a tight smile. "Fuck off," was my only reply. With that off my chest, I abruptly turned and headed in the opposite direction.

I felt as though I could actually breath the further away I got from Beckett. I quickly grabbed a glass of wine and took a sip. I winced, remembering that I was not particularly fond of wine.

I completely missed who walked up to me.

"So, how's it going?" I heard a familiar voice ask.

I turned to see none other than Blake standing in front of me.

"Better now that I don't have Beckett's grimy hands on me."

"Well, I just figured that id let you know that everyone is in position."

I smiled. "Awesome! And everyone knows the cue, right?"

He nodded.

"Good. Now, we wait."

"Excuse me, Miss Kingsleigh?" I heard a voice ask from behind me.

I turned to see who asked about me to find a woman in her early twenties had walked up to us while we were talking. She was maybe an inch taller than I was, and very pretty.

She curtsied to me, which still felt very odd to me. I did the polite thing and curtsied back, and then said, "Yes?"

The moment she opened her mouth, I could tell that I was going to have problems with this woman.

"Lady Castlemaine," she introduced herself. "My husband, Lord Arthur Castlemaine, is employed in the King's court."

I curtsied again. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Where on earth did you find such a dress?" she asked me.

I looked down at my Alice-replica dress and then back at Castlemaine. "Oh, it was a gift from an old friend. It was purchased in the little tailor shop in town."

I could tell the smile on Lady Castlemaine was showing was plastered there on her features. "I see. It is a beautiful gown."

_I know it, and I don't need a twig bitch like you telling me otherwise. _I was waiting for her to make a snide comment of sorts. I could feel it coming.

"But I believe that you can do so much better, dear. Something made from a better quality fabric."

There it was. I looked at Blake, and saw his expression. He was silently warning me not to do something that I would regret later on.

I looked back at the woman. "Castlemaine," I said. "That name sounds awfully familiar. Wouldn't you agree, Blake?"

"Yes," he replied in his best British accent. "It certainly does."

"You've heard of me?" Lady Castlemaine asked in wonder.

"I believe so," I answered. Pretending to ponder, I added. "Let me think….I can't quite put my finger on it….where have I heard that name from?"

"Perhaps if we were to ask Vicky?" Blake asked.

I feigned realization. "That's right! Thank you, Blake. Now I remember."

"You do?" the aristocrat asked.

"Yes," I said. "Castlemaine….that wouldn't happen to be the same name as one of the King's mistresses, would it?"

Lady Castlemaine paled. "I beg your pardon?"

"Yes…I remember now. Lady Castlemaine was the royal mistress to King Charles II." To the woman in question, I asked, "How does it feel to share the same name as a whore?"

"How dare you!" she exclaimed. "I have no relations with any whores of any kind!"

"Really? What about your husband's family?"

The woman looked absolutely disgusted. "Never."

"Wait," Blake interjected. "Didn't she show animosity towards the King's friend at the time?"

I fake gasped. "You're right! John Wilmot…the Second Earl of Rochester. They absolutely hated each other."

Lady Castlemaine scoffed at the name. "Please…he didn't deserve that title."

"Well," I began, taking a sip of wine. "Better him than her."

She looked as if she were about to say something, but Blake and I were saved by the sound of music.

The beginnings of a quadrille.

I put my glass down as I grabbed a hold of Blake's hand. "As interesting as this conversation is—as much as im enjoying it—the dance floor is calling to us, and I simply cannot miss a quadrille."

We started making our way towards the other couples to join in the dance. Not before I called over my shoulder, "Besides, I think that Wilmot's works were brilliant, no matter how unconventionally some of them were!"

I just barely got a glimpse of Castlemaine's shocked expression.

"Well, that went well, didn't it?" Blake asked as we began dancing.

"I thought so. One more dance, and it will be better."

"Hey, while we're at it…since it's a quadrille and all…."

"You want to sing _The Lobster Quadrille_, don't you?"

"Please?"

That was one thing Blake and I definitely had in common. We both love _Alice in Wonderland_.

"Certainly. If youd like to join me, of course."

We continued to dance with the others. A few more steps, and we began to sing.

"_Will you walk a little faster?"  
Said a whiting to a snail,  
"There's a porpoise close behind us,  
Treading on my tail."  
See how eagerly the lobsters  
And the turtles all advance!  
They are waiting on the shingle -  
Will you come and join the dance?  
So, will you, won't you, won't you,  
Will you, won't you join the dance?  
Will you, won't you, will you,  
Won't you, won't you join the dance?_"

A few more turns, and then we continued.

"_You can really have no notion  
How delightful it will be  
When they take us up and throw us,  
With the lobsters, out to sea!"  
But the snail replied, "Too far, too far!"  
And gave a look askance -  
Said he thanked the whiting kindly,  
But he would not join the dance.  
So, would not, could not, would not,  
Could not, would not join the dance.  
Would not, could not, would not,  
Could not, could not join the dance._

"What matters it how far we go?"  
His scaly friend replied,  
"There is another shore, you know,  
Upon the other side.  
The further off from England  
The nearer is to France -  
Then turn not pale, beloved snail,  
But come and join the dance.

Will you, won't you, will you,  
Won't you, will you join the dance?  
Will you, won't you, won't you,  
Will you, won't you join the dance?

Will you, won't you, will you,  
Won't you, won't you join the dance?  
Will you, won't you, will you,  
Won't you, won't you join the dance?

"

We finished our favorite song, ignoring the mysterious looks we were getting from on-lookers. We joined them in clapping as the orchestra got ready for the next song.

I couldn't help but smile. Singing _The Lobster Quadrille_ definitely made that dance all the better. It would have been really boring if we hadn't.

"That was awesome," Blake whispered to me.

"I quite agree."

"You were amazing! Who taught you how to dance? I thought you said you were terrible?"

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. "Jack did."

"Well, the next time you see him, tell him he did a good job."

"I'll be sure to tell him."

Blake nodded at me. "Look, Im gonna go check on the others."

"Okay," I said. "I'll be here."

With that, Blake left me there on the dance floor to my own devices. And it wasn't but seconds later that I felt someone tap me on my shoulder. I turned to find a gentleman had walked up to me.

He was very handsome…and looked all too familiar, despite the fact that he tried to disguise himself.

"May I have this dance?" he asked.

I couldn't stop from smiling. "You may, sir."

I allowed the pirate to lead me to the middle of the dance floor. We got into position for a waltz, Jack placing a hand on my waist (causing a foreign feeling to occur) and cradling my hand with his free one. I placed my other hand on his shoulder, and we began the dance.

"You came," I said.

"Of course, love," Jack said. "Wouldn't miss this for the world."

"Any chance to get back at Beckett, right?"

"Pirate."

I smiled. "You would say that."

Jack leaned a little closer to me, his mouth closer to my ear. His hot breath tickled my cheek as he whispered, "You look beautiful, darlin'."

I blushed five shades of red. "Thank you."

We said no more after that. We continued to twirl around and sway to the music being played by the small orchestra. It was as though no one was in the room with us. It was just the two of us. It was really the first time I could get a real good look at the pirate captain. My skin tone paled in comparison to his tanned skin, which I knew only got that way because of how much time he spent in the sun. I found his dark brown hair, which was pulled back by a ribbon at the moment, to be very interesting (if my mom would have heard that, she would have gagged). And those eyes…those orbs of melted chocolate that always seemed to catch me off guard. They were always full of mirth and mischievousness. Getting lost in them, I could tell there was a foreign emotion, but I couldn't tell which one it was.

I wished that moment would last forever.

Sadly, all good things have to come to an end. The song came to a slow close, and everyone broke from their partners, clapping once again for the musicians. It was a picture of a perfect society….

And it was suddenly crushed by the sound of drum beats and what sounded like a series of electronic bells and what not.

Jack and I both winked in understanding.

"_Oppa Gangnam Style._"

Suddenly, several people walked into the middle of the dance floor…those people being my friends.

"_Gangnam Style._"

I smiled and joined them as they began.

"_Najeneun ttasaroun inganjeogin yeoja_

_Keopi hanjanui yeoyureul aneun pumgyeok inneun yeoja_

_Bami omyeon simjangi tteugeowojineun yeoja_

_Geureon banjeon inneun yeoja_

_Naneun sanai_

_Najeneun neomankeum ttasaroun geureon sanai_

_Keopi sikgido jeone wonsyat ttaerineun sanai_

_Bami omyeon simjangi teojyeobeorineun sanai_

_Geureon sanai_

_Areumdawo sarangseureowo_

_Geurae neo hey geurae baro neo hey  
Areumdawo sarangseureowo_

_Geurae neo hey geurae baro neo hey_

_Jigeumbuteo gal dekkaji gabolkka_"

We paused in our rendition of PSY's _Gangnam Style._ Then, Chris broke from the group and sang, "_Oppa Gangnam Style_."

Then we began to dance again, doing the signiture move of the song: the Horse.

"_Gangnam Style  
Op, op, op, op_

_Oppa Gangnam Style_

_Gangnam Style  
Op, op, op, op_

_Oppa Gangnam Style  
Eh, sexy lady_

_Op, op, op, op_

_Oppa Gangnam Style  
Eh, sexy lady_

_Op, op, op, op_

_Eh-eh-eh, eh-eh-eh_"

We continued the dance all the way to the very end. By now, I had already left the room to change into a different outfit for the next number. I kept looking around at the various reactions that we were getting from the upper class, but none of them came close to Beckett's.

Panic. Sheer, bloody panic.

From my spot, I could hear the song drawing to a close. I smiled. We were far from making a spectacle of ourselves.

My friend Thomas, who had kindly volunteered to be our DJ, started the next track just as soon as _Gangnam Style_ ended. I made sure that my mic was ready, seeing as the track was all instrumental.

I did the initial giggle that began the song, and then I started singing and making myself known.

"_Dance._"

I walked out of my hiding spot and back onto the dance floor with the rest of my friends. Then, we really started the show.

"_Back door cracked_

_We don't need a key_

_We get in for free_

_No VIP sleaze_

_Drink that Kool-Aid_

_Follow my lead_

_Now you're one of us_

_You're coming with me_

_It's time to kill the lights_

_And shut the DJ down(This place about to)_

_Tonight we're taking over_

_No one's getting out_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to_

_Now what?_

_We're taking control_

_We get what we want_

_We do what you don't_

_Dirt and glitter cover the floor_

_We're pretty and sick_

_We're young and we're bored  
_

_It's time to lose your mind_

_And let the crazy out(This place about to)_

_Tonight we're taking names_

_'Cause we don't mess around_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow  
_

_Go insane, go insane_

_Throw some glitter, make it rain on 'em_

_Let me see them hands_

_Let me, let me see them hands_

_Go insane, go insane_

_Throw some glitter, make it rain on 'em_

_Let me see them hands_

_Let me, let me see them hands_

_We're taking over(Blow)_

_Get use to it, okay(Blow)  
This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow, blow_

_This place about to blow_"

As the song ended, I watched as my friends ran off, just like we had planned. I looked around to see who else had run off, and to see the reactions of the public. Jack had left, and was most likely on his way to the _Black Pearl_.

_Good,_ was my thought. _Don't want him to get caught._

As I made my way towards the exit, I got a good look at both the King's and Beckett's reactions to our flash mob.

It was priceless.

I ran out of the mansion, joining my friends out by a fountain. Then we all departed and made our way back to the cove where the _Pearl _was hiding. I constantly looked back behind us to ensure that no one was following us.

As we continued to walk and talk and laugh about what had just transpired, I couldn't help but start thinking about our next stunt, or about the score between myself and Beckett.

_Xanthe: 5; Beckett and Mercer: 0_

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the musical number that I put in there. I really do hope so...if anyone isn't particularly fond of either artist, I do apologize. I thought that the two songs were perfect (and they'd probably make a good mash-up too).

So, maybe you caught this, but I threw in some legit info in this chapter. King Charles II actually did lead his troops in the Battle of Dettingen against French troops in 1743. Whether or not he received a war injury, I've no clue! And Castlemaine was the name of the royal mistress to King Charles II during his reign in the 1650's-1660's. She showed strong animosity to John Wilmot, the Second Earl of Rochester, who happened to be her cousin (if I read my research correctly). I got the info about Lady Castlemaine from **linalove**. Kudos to you, ma'am, as I always seem to learn awesome thing from you!

If you have any suggestions, anything you want to see happen to Beckett, let me know! I'd love to hear from you...especially if it's a review! I love reviews. they make me happy.

Feel free to join me on Facebook, too. The link is on my profile!


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